


Night Terrors

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: The Space Between the First and Last Breath [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Nightmares, POV Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Pre-Canon, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26771683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Nicky and Joe look for Andy and Quynh, hoping they won't be too late.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Space Between the First and Last Breath [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947598
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Kidnapping
> 
> *Don't mind me pretending they dream about each other whenever they are apart and not just before they meet.

Joe moved restlessly, his sword swinging mindlessly in the small space of the room they were renting. The place was messy, a testament to their hurried arrival and disordered living since coming to town. The small table was littered with papers, almost entirely made up of Joe’s clumsy, brusque drawings. He did not like to look them, no skill behind their creation, only fearful intent.

The floor was scattered with abandoned clothing they were far too distracted to put away properly, he already knew they’d leave it all behind once they’d found them, once they’d crawled out from beneath this shadow of despair. It was but a small miracle this inn was so willing to feed them every night, or else they may forget to eat, let alone pick up after themselves.

Joe cast a weary glance at Nicolò, who was laying flat on the bed, hands resting carefully on his stomach. The sight did not sit well with him, far too unnatural, decidedly uncomfortable…like sleeping was a duty to be endured.

It was. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Nicolò had begun shifting in his sleep, subtle things like the twitch of his finger and furrowing of his brows that made Joe’s stomach turn with unease. Usually, he would have been woken by now, the nightmares becoming too sharp and there was a small part of him that suspected the man he loved, was just stubborn enough to force himself to remain asleep.

Drifting closer, Joe abandoned his sword, letting it rest against the end of the bed. Instead, he picked up his new notebook, the one they couldn’t afford, not really but was necessary for them to make progress. He selected a fresh piece of charcoal and sunk down gently next to his beloved, watching closely.

Nicolò’s eye twitched, his soft lips parted on an exhale. Joe tensed despite himself, one hand reaching out to rest gently over Nicolò’s and not a moment too soon because his eyes flew open and he sat up quickly enough to make Joe drop the book in his lap.

“Nicolò?!”

He was trying to breathe, inhaling deep shuddering breaths before coughing heavily, like there was no space in his lungs for it. Joe gripped his face, tried to make him look at him, “you’re awake Nicolò, please, you’re alright, you’re awake!”

Nicolò shook his head, long fingers curling in the front of Joe’s shirt, eyes too wide and horrified, a sight that seared his heart, “Jo-” more coughing. “Yusuf.”

“What? What happened Nicolò? Are they alright?”

“We’re too late,” he forced out between another fit and Joe was starting to grow afraid, finding only one meaning in his beloved’s words. “She’s gone.”

“Who?” he asked, taking Nicolò’s chin with his hand and making him focus, though he loathed to rush him. “Who did we lose?”

To Joe’s horror, Nicolò’s eyes were bright, tears glinting and threatening to overrun, “Quynh, they’ve…she’s dying over and over and over, Joe-”

His breaths were coming faster again, as though he couldn’t quite get a hold of himself, “Nicolò, you’re alright, come on-”

“She can’t breathe,” Nicolo gasped. “She’s drowning.”

He settled a hand firmly on the back of Nicolò’s neck and let his head fall forward until they met in the middle, as he willfully pushed away his horror. Slowly, haltingly, Nicolò began to explain his nightmare, his words starting off familiar enough…describing the hovel Quynh and Andromache had been kept in these past weeks as they searched.

It did not last, Nicolò had been right when he said they’d run out of time, as he described the coffin of iron, the blood that seeped from Andromache’s wrists, the screams, the terrified inhuman screams of their friends.

Joe had hoped his beloved would be spared Quynh’s death…but it was not to be. Nicolò had stopped trembling, his hands gravitating to Joe’s shoulders, where he gripped him hard enough to cause bruises, as though he might drift away. Still, his gaze was steady, determined as he explained the sensation of water filling their lungs, of Quynh’s desperation, of the fear.

Unable to bear it any longer, Joe pulled Nicolò fully into his arms, holding him close for several long moments, trying to imagine what that must be like…though he wouldn’t have to imagine for long, no he now knew what nightmares awaited him when he closed his eyes.

“Andromache?” he asked quietly.

“She is still being held captive. They will burn her tomorrow.”

Joe’s jaw clenched, “no, they won’t.”

Nicolò, when he’d described the nightmare had given him the clue they’d been waiting for. They had been mindlessly following the witch hunts through Europe, travelling and keeping their ear to the ground…dismissing accusations of killing animals and riding broomsticks, instead looking for something far more spectacular. Every night one of them slept while the other waited to draw or write what they’d dream, just waiting for the moment everything became clear.

As it turned out, they’d been moving in the right direction without realizing it. They were only hours away from a burning, a unique decision given most had taken to hanging the accused these days.

Dawn was a long way off and they had horses freshly watered and fed. They might be too late for Quynh but not for Andromache, they wouldn’t allow themselves to be. Even if they had to slaughter the whole damn village, they would get her back…and then they would find Quynh.

He could see his thoughts reflected in Nicolò’s eyes. The fear of being caged, made to suffer over and over was one they’d all considered before, and it was a cruelty Joe could not bear to watch his loved ones endure. They would find her, and they would bring her back and they would never allow themselves to be taken again. Nicolò kissed him and an unspoken promise passed between them, the echo of words they used to hear between Andromache and Quynh in hushed voices and lately, every night in their dreams.

“Just you and me, until the end.”

They would not allow this to be the end.


End file.
